


screwball

by songs



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songs/pseuds/songs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Pining Chronicles Of Abe Takaya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	screwball

☆

**1.**

“Your hand is cold.”

“Ah.”

“Are you afraid?”

“N…not really.”

A grunt. “Lying doesn’t help anything.”

“But…it’s not…” Swallow. “Not a— _lie…”_

More gently, “Then what is it?”

“…I’m—” Start, stop. A heartbeat in a hand. “I’m happy.”

“Happy?”

“With…you…happy…”

“With me?”

“I’m…I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?”

 

**2.**

Abe Takaya cannot, for the life of him, understand Mihashi Ren.

He’s an enigma. A push-pull, wallflower boy with a good throw and a soft voice. Soft skin, too, and – _dammit,_ mind,  _stop wandering._ Abe clenches his jaw.  _Stop,_ he thinks, but then the thoughts just go and  _start,_ and  _roam,_ and—oh.  There’s a hint of red, a touch of want.  Mihashi slips into the dugout, flirts along the edges like something gossamer. Pink-skin, doe-eyes. He’s smiling when he says, “G-good luck, Abe-kun.”

Abe grunts, but not without a preamble of mental gymnastics— _luck, good luck, what did he mean by that? Why is he being so calm? Why am I being such an idiot? Since when did we switch places and why is he getting_ closer—

Mihashi touches his hand to Abe’s, and beams. “Warm.”

Abe Takaya cannot, for the life of him, understand Mihashi Ren.

**3.**

CHEMISTRY NOTES

ABE TAKAYA

MAY 3 2014

AMARO-SENSEI

The atom is made of three components: protons, neutrons, and electrons.  ~~I wonder if Mihashi is eating okay?~~  Electrons have the least amount of mass  _ ~~MIHASHI IS LOSING WEIGHT AGAIN HE’S GOING TO DISAPPEAR~~_ and are located outside of the nucleus. The nucleus contains protons and neutrons. The electrons are attracted  ~~to Mihashi~~ the nucleus’ positive charge and  ~~I WONDER IF HE’S DOING OKAY? HIS HAND WAS REALLY HOT THAT ONE TIME? DOES HE HAVE A FEVER~~ that keeps the atom together…

 ~~Will we always be together?~~ To break an atom you make a bomb.  ~~CAN YOU BREAK A BATTERY.~~  The atom bomb fell on Hiroshima and Nagasaki during World War II  ~~we’re a battery now but that can change? What if he finds someone better. MIHASHI’S NEW WALL. But Mihashi doesn’t have walls. No, he has walls, but inside and outside of him. I’m not a wall to him. I’m a catcher. I’m his catcher~~ and countless lives were lost. Small things can be very dangerous. And very important.  ~~AM I IMPORTANT TO HIM~~

~~Is he important to me?~~

**4.**

**ABE’S TO DO:**

  * Ask Mihashi if he’s been eating properly.
  * Congratulate him for winning the game.
  * Copy Izumi’s Chem notes
  * Try not to laugh at Idiot Left’s failed seduction techniques, re: Shinooka.
  * Also ask Shinooka if she’s eating properly? (Why is her face so red whenever I ask her something?)
  * Add more riceballs to Mihashi’s diet.
  * REVIEW DATA ON TEAM IWASAKI.
  * Practice screwball with Mihashi.
  * Ask Mihashi for the chocolate cake recipe from my birthday. (It was…delicious)



**5.**

“Writing a love letter?”

“Eh?” Abe looks up from his notebook, then down again. “Tch, sure. Izumi, It’s for you.”

“You’re not my type,” Izumi says, grinning. “I’m more for…”

“Left-fielders,” Abe offers, dryly.

Izumi does not back down. “Left-fielders.”

“Hard to miss,” Abe adds, not to be mean, but not to be kind, either.

“Says the one with pitcher issues.”

“ _Pitcher issues_?”

“As in the plural. Although right now you seem to have your hands full with your full-blown  _Mihashi Pining_.”

“P…pining _?”_ Abe sputters. “I don’t…I do not  _pine._ I’m just. The idiot can’t take care of himself—”

“Mihashi isn’t an idiot,” Izumi cuts in, severely. Abe blinks, taken aback. “But _you_  might be.”

“What do you—”

Izumi just says, all too giddily, “I’m heading out.”

**6.**

“I…I think,” Mihashi murmurs, eyes glossing over the notes on Iwasaki. “A…a curveball. A curveball inside w-would work best on him.”

“Mm,” Abe agrees, scrawling that down. “I’ll add that to the lead.”

“Aa,” Mihashi says, hesitantly. “Not t-that I doubt—”

Abe sighs, but it is fond. “I know.”

“…You know?”

Mihashi’s stare is very gentle, very clear, and Abe has to look away from the depth of it.

  _Writing a love letter?_

“Yeah,” he says, and it’s quiet. “I…know.”

**7.**

**GOOGLE SEARCH HISTORY:**

_Is it normal to hold your friend’s hand all the time_

_What if I think he’s really really pretty_

_Do boys usually have long eyelashes?_

**8.**

Abe manages to catch Mihashi right before he glimmers off  for his at-bat; it’s the bottom of the fifth, and they have three runs up on Iwasaki. Instinctively, he reaches for Mihashi’s elbow;  the other boy turns in question.

“A…Abe-kun?”

“I…”  _Let’s win. Good luck. Want to practice catch in a second? I want to hold your hand. I like you. I really, really like you, as more than a pitcher._ “Um…”

“Oh!” Mihashi brightens, like he understands. And he just might. He sets down his bat, and holds up his hand. Wordlessly, Abe presses his palm to Mihashi’s, and for a moment, there is nothing.

Then Mihashi laces their fingers together.

“We’re going to win,” he says, voice absent of any pauses, any knots. He has a dreamlike nuance to his face. “Together, right? And—”

_NEXT UP TO BAT, NO. 7 MIZUTANI FUMIKI._

Mihashi stills at the announcement, and Abe’s hold tightens.

Gently, “You’re going to be next.”

"I’ll…"

“You’ll do well,” Abe tells him, and he means it. For all the sunlight, Mihashi’s eyes are twinkling, and Abe, more than anything else, does not want to let go of his hand. “Good luck.”

They meet eyes, and something passes. Abe thinks back to his Chemistry notes, his to-do list, to Mihashi’s grip on him and thinks:  _oh._

“Thank you,” Mihashi murmurs. His skin is red; Abe wonders how long he’s mistaken that flush for a fever, how long he’s missed the glint of  _something_ in Mihashi’s gaze.

Again, again:

_Oh._

**9.**

Even when Mihashi pulls away, Abe’s hand remains warm.


End file.
